35. I Think I’m in Trouble
35
I THINK I’M IN TROUBLE
MAGGIE
I Ran By Mama Ghost
I slept horribly last night, and I know it’s because I wasn’t wrapped up in Felix’s warmth. I’d gotten so used to the steady rhythm of his breathing beside me, the way he’d pull me close even in his sleep, that now the absence of it feels like a hollow ache. But it was for the best. I keep reminding myself of that. The road stretches endlessly ahead of us, and we’re just now crossing into Colorado. The jagged peaks of the Rockies loom in the distance, their snow-dusted caps shimmering in the morning light. Denver is still hours away, though, and the bus rumbles beneath me like a restless beast.
Kate is sitting at the table with a few of the other girls, her long blonde hair tucked into a messy braid over one shoulder. I’ve been a lousy bus-mate—or whatever you call sharing a cramped, moving space with someone. Kate’s one of the few people I’ve managed to connect with on this tour, but I haven’t exactly been the best at keeping that connection alive.
She notices me as I grab a chipped white mug from the counter and start pouring coffee. “Everything okay?” she asks, her voice soft but curious.
“Yeah, why?” I twirl the mug in my hands.
“You haven’t slept on the bus for a while. I was gonna start using your bunk for storage,” she teases.
I let out a weak chuckle and slide into the seat across from her. One of the other girls darts for the bathroom now it’s unoccupied. The door clicks shut, and I can’t help but think how nice it’s been not having to wait in line for the shower when I’m on Felix’s bus.
“I’ve got mounds of work to do and…” I sigh, letting the weight of it settle in my chest. “I just needed some time by myself.”
Kate raises an eyebrow, her lips pressing into a thin line. She doesn’t believe me, not entirely, but she doesn’t push. I can see the concern flicker in her eyes, but she lets it drop. For that, I’m grateful.
The truth is, I have been neglecting my work. Signing with The Lawson Agency felt like a dream come true—a validation of all the blood, sweat, and tears I’ve poured into my career. Tim Lawson himself had been so complimentary about my work, his enthusiasm infectious. But now, the reality of it all feels like a weight pressing down on me. It had all happened so fast. Too fast. Just like everything else on this tour. Especially with Felix.
The thought of him hits me like a punch to the gut. My heart aches, a physical, twisting pain in my chest. If I could, I’d fold myself into his arms right now, bury my face in his chest, and let the steady thrum of his heartbeat soothe me. But I can’t. Not right now.
“Your coffee’s gonna get cold,” Kate says, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Huh?” I blink at her, realizing I haven’t taken a single sip.
“You sure you’re okay?” Her brows pinch together.
I grip the mug tighter. “Yeah,” I lie.
Before she can press further, the bathroom door swings open, and Kate shoots out of her seat like a sprinter at the starting line. She pauses, though, glancing back at me with a small smile. “You want to go first?” she offers, gesturing toward the open door.
I shake my head. “I’m good. Go ahead.”
She shrugs and disappears inside. I leave my coffee untouched on the table and retreat to my bunk.
An email is still open on my laptop. It’s from Tim. A list of projects he wants to send my demo reel to. Normally, I’d be thrilled at the prospect of new work, but right now, it feels like an impossible weight.
Instead of replying to Tim, I flip over to my calendar for what feels like the hundredth time in the past few days. The dates blur together, unchanging, unyielding. I close the laptop with a frustrated sigh and rest my head against the cool wall of the bus. The mountains are breathtaking, their rugged beauty a stark contrast to the turmoil inside me. But I can’t even appreciate them. All I can think about is home. And Felix.
I glance at my phone, Felix’s name lighting up the screen from an unread text. My thumb hovers over it, my heart pounding. The logical part of me knows he’d understand if I reached out, but the messy, insecure part of me is terrified he won’t. And right now, the messy part is winning.
What would I even say? My mind races, but no words come. I pull my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them as if I can hold myself together. I’m missing home right now in a way that I never have before. I’ve been putting off calling Joey for days because I know if I tell her, it’ll be too real. But I have to talk to someone.
The phone buzzes in my hand, and Joey’s name flashes on the screen. It’s uncanny how she always seems to know when I need her. I swipe to answer, clutching the phone to my ear as I glance around the bus, searching for a sliver of privacy. Most of the girls are still in the kitchen or waiting for the bathroom.
“Maggie?” Joey’s voice is tinged with worry.
I turn away from the aisle, curling into myself. “Joey,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I think I’m in trouble.”